Summer
The watery sun filters through the cloud,
The mountain appears waif-like, through a shroud
Of wispy mist, solidarity lost.
The polar winds intending to accost
Our senses; through cold, snow and chilling rain,
Not yet summer, but winter here again!
Seasons are askew, with summer on hold,
Dress for uncertainty, prepare for cold,
Shelter from prevailing westerly winds,
Waiting for our lost summer to begin.
Gale force winds are blowing out of season.
Perhaps climate change could be the reason.
Rain in collision with my windowpane,
Runnells of water, again and again,
Interrupting, blocking my field of view,
Windows rattling, some hail is falling too,
I’ll just sit and wait patiently awhile,
For summer to become much less hostile.
Bill Edmunds
December 2019
Bill Edmunds 